Do You Understand?
by Ariel Princess of the Sea
Summary: After Felicity Smoak found out about Oliver Queen's death in 3x10, Felicity is heartbroken. This is a fic where Felicity has a birthday, John Diggle tries to make it happy in spite of recent events, and a mysterious birthday present comes for Felicity.


Felicity sat on her couch with a mug of coffee in her hand. As she held the warm drink, she stared at the curtains on the window across from her. She was immovable, and if someone were to happen by her, they would probably walk on by thinking she was a wax figure or statue or something. She sat in her tank top and horribly mis-matched pajama pants, her eyes trained on this little spot of something she couldn't decipher on her curtains. Usually, she had to hurry to get her workout video in and get dressed before heading into work. Today was different, today she just sat there.

In her mind, she was debating what the pros and cons were of calling into work sick again. She had yelled at her boss the last time she was there, so he probably didn't want to see her. That, and he told her to take some time to herself. She didn't want to look Ray in the face and see his concern for her. And she didn't want to see him working on his A.T.O.M suit-thing. She really didn't want to see him at all. But he was her boss, and not seeing him was impossible. She could however, avoid him as much as possible. If Ray was adamant about continuing his suicide mission, then she didn't want to watch. She couldn't watch. Not after Oliver. She would never again abet in another person's self-destructive activities again.

Both Oliver and Ray had known how their stories would end in death, but they both didn't care. They both were so lost in those who had died, they didn't see those who were alive.

She was alive.

Oliver wasn't.

Oliver had done exactly what he said he would so many weeks ago. He would die doing this. There was only but a small difference. He thought he would die the Arrow. He died as Oliver Queen. And still, this didn't matter. It didn't change anything. If he were never the Arrow, he wouldn't have had to go fight Ra's al Ghul. If he were never the Arrow, he'd still be alive. But if the Arrow never existed, a lot more people in the world would be dead. The other half of the Glades would have been destroyed. Count Vertigo and the Dollmaker would have succeeded in their plans of evil. If Oliver were never the Arrow, Felicity would have never met Oliver Queen. She would have never fallen in love with him, and she wouldn't be sitting on her couch, letting her beloved coffee grow cold, and staring at the same little spot on her curtains. She wouldn't be mourning him right now.

Would she trade never knowing him for his life? Yes. If given the chance. If the Doctor and his TARDIS were to materialize in her living room right now, she would gladly take him up on the offer to make sure he never became the Arrow.

No, she rationalized. That would never work. The Arrow was always in Oliver. No force of nature, not even a time-travelling Time Lord, could possibly change what he was.

And Felicity couldn't change the past anyway. What's done is done. No matter how much she wanted to believe differently. No matter how much time she spent staring at that dumb spot on the curtains. She could yell, and bargain all she wanted. Nothing would bring him back. And that was the worst.

Felicity sighed, and took her eyes off the spot on the curtains. Maybe she'll wash them today, get rid of that damn spot. She took a sip of her coffee, and almost spit it out when she realized it had gone cold. Her vision turned to the yellow mug that she received from her mother on her birthday so many years ago. Coffee was a staple in her life. It got her moving and made her coherent to the outside world. It was one of the reasons she got up in the morning. Her vision grew thick and her throat started to ache, all signs that she was about to cry. About her cold fucking coffee.

Felicity's head fell back to the couch, and she found a new spot on the ceiling. She had the ridiculous hope that the tears wouldn't escape if gravity held them in.

If gravity had a battle with her heart, who would win? She wondered, absentmindedly. On one hand, gravity is the strongest force in the universe. It kept them from falling off this giant spherical rock they lived on. But, her heart was torn. So her heart would win.

Sometime later, when her heart was done beating her up, Felicity made herself a new cup of coffee. She downed the cup in almost record time. It almost didn't register with her that her mouth was now burned. Felicity shrugged. Usually something like burning her mouth and not being able to taste anything for a couple of days annoyed her to no end. But did it really matter in the grand scheme of things? Not really.

After calling her executive assistant and telling him she was still sick and that she wouldn't be coming into work today, Felicity tackled the curtains. She took them off their rod, and shoved them in a laundry basket she had gotten from her laundry room. Well, when she says laundry _room_, she really means the little closet that housed her washer and dryer.

Felicity grabbed the basket and made her way back to the little laundry closet, where she proceeded to shove her curtains in the washer's cylinder. When she was certain nothing would get snagged on the laundry machine while washing, she shut the lid and pressed the cold start button. Why she was so bugged about these damn curtains, she didn't know. She's sure she could figure it out, but then it would mean another introspective talk to herself that usually led to that one horrible thought that plagued her. But it wasn't just a thought, it was her reality.

Before Felicity could travel down another dark dirt road, the sound of her phone ringing slashed through her train of thought.

Felicity pushed off the washer and meandered into the kitchen, where she last disposed of her phone after talking to her EA. The front of her phone was lit up with a picture of John Diggle, one of her best friends in the world. Well, they were best friends until she walked out on him a couple nights ago. He'd been calling her every couple of hours ever since she left. Either trying to get her to come back to the Arrow Cave or checking in on her. More times than not, she just let it ring, all the while staring at the smiling face of John. She felt bad for ignoring him. God knows he's going through the same thing that she was. They both lost someone they loved. It was that thought that encouraged her to pick up the phone.

"John," she confirmed.

There was a deep breath on his side of the phone then a simple, "Felicity."

"Yes, this is she. She is me. Hello." She felt flustered. Why she felt flustered with John, she didn't know. But maybe it had something to do with the nagging thought of John still risking his life for this dead cause. Or maybe it had something to do with their strained relationship.

Diggle spoke again, resonating calm, "how are you doing?"

God, Felicity hated that question. Her knee-jerk answer was always to say that she was fine, great or okay. But she always felt compelled to answer with a not well, sucky, or shitty.

Felicity went with the midline, "what do you think?" Though, it came out a little snappier than she wanted it to. She really only wanted one thing. She wanted it so badly that for a second, she thought John might've been able to give him to her. But she was sassing him and here he was, looking for the same assurance that she needed.

"Felicity, I think you are doing horribly. I think you haven't left your house in days. And I think you need to get out." He retorted back.

Felicity clutched her phone closer to her ear. "I don't need to get out. I'm perfectly fine in here. I'm actually getting some cleaning done. I'm washing my curtains as we speak."

There was a little chuckle on the other end of the wire. "Felicity. Curtains don't need to be washed. You're trying to fill your time up with pointless tasks."

"John- "

"No. If you're going to distract yourself with something right now, at least distract yourself with something productive."

Felicity shifted her feet. "I will not go back to the Foundry."

"I didn't say you had to." Diggle paused for a second, thinking before he continued. "At least come over here to my place. You can see Sara. She misses her auntie Felicity."

Felicity paused, torn between wanted to stay away from all humanity, and the cute little nugget that was Diggle's baby girl.

"I guess I could get out for a couple hours…after I finish pointlessly washing my curtains." She finally conceded.

"That would be great Felicity!" And almost as an afterthought he added, "Would you like me to come pick you up? Or are you okay to drive?"

Felicity exhaled, "I'm fine driving. Give me an hour or so."

"Okay. I will see you then." He concluded, hanging up the phone.

Felicity placed her phone back on the counter, her hand lingering over her screen. Not for the first time, she had felt the urge to call Oliver, to hear his voice recite his extremely brief voicemail. But if she was expected to be a happy human being today, she shouldn't.

Felicity stood there a moment more, pondering nothing and everything, when she suddenly jerked at the realization that she was still in her pajamas and should probably get dressed. Though, I doubt Diggle would question her attire if she showed up to his house like this. But still, she promised an effort, so she should give one.

Felicity stood in Diggle's apartment, staring at his door. She was debating whether or not she wanted to run away. She made it pretty far, for which she was proud of herself. And there was a tiny little nugget behind the door, begging for her full attention. It would be good for her, she rationalized. It'll take your mind off everything. Off of him.

At that thought, Felicity knocked. She shifted her feet around, awaiting John to open the door. When he did, he sported a smile so big, she was taken aback. How could he be so happy so soon after Oliver's death?

"Felicity, I'm so glad you came!" He stepped aside, letting her brush past him.

"Yeah, I can see that."

"I honestly thought you wouldn't come." His smile drops slowly, letting Felicity see what was behind his mask. "I've really missed you these past few days."

She turned towards him as he shut the door. "Are you still going out at night, pretending to be the Vigilante?" Felicity didn't mean to say it so curtly, but she guessed they should get this out in the open before they went any farther. They were already standing more than 10 feet away from each other. That alone was strange.

"Roy and I are only doing minor patrols right now. We can't fathom anything bigger without you there to guide us." He replied, sensing her reaction.

"Well, I won't be there, so you'll have to settle with the smaller things." She threw back.

"Okay." He conceded. Way too quickly, Felicity thought. But she shrugged and moved on from that discussion. She didn't want any part of being in Team Arrow without the Arrow. He built the team, and the team will die with him.

"What about your birthday?" John stared at her. And it took a second for Felicity to process what he was talking about. _Right,_ she remembered, _her_ birthday. That was tomorrow. When did that sneak up on her?

"What about it?" Felicity crossed her arms, and turned around the room, trying to find a spot on the wall, or baby Sara to distract her.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?" he probed.

She really hadn't thought about it. She just assumed sitting at home was the best option. "Spending it by myself."

He took a couple steps towards her, but stopped when he saw her warning glance. "You shouldn't be alone on your birthday, Felicity."

"Yeah well, Oliver shouldn't have gone to Ra's al Ghul alone." She retorted, suddenly very pissed off. Who gave him the right to tell her what she could and couldn't do?

Diggle blanched. "Felicity that was his choice. If you remember, I tried to go with him."

"The fact still remains that he went alone."

"Oliver wouldn't have wanted this." Diggle whispered. So low, Felicity wondered if he almost didn't say it. But telling her what Oliver would or would not have wanted was a low blow. She tried that on Ray a couple of days ago, and got told off by him. She now realized where Ray was coming from.

"Oliver isn't here to tell us what he would or wouldn't have wanted." She snapped, reestablishing the ten feet of space between them. But Diggle didn't back down, he moved a couple more steps towards her.

"I know because he told me."

Felicity paused. Oliver and John had a conversation about her? "He told you what?"

Diggle gauged her reaction for a second before speaking, "Oliver and I were planning a party for your birthday before the League mess happened. He invited your mother and everything. Spent some money he had left in his trust fund to buy a plane ticket for her." He watched as her face fell into shock. "He wanted you to have the best birthday ever, Felicity. So no, he didn't want you to be alone. Of that, I am one hundred percent sure."

Felicity felt the ground fall out from under her. She looked down. Nope, the ground was definitely still there. Though the ground was starting to look a little fuzzy.

Diggle took inventory of her, then closed the distance between them, pulling a crying Felicity into his arms. "I didn't tell you this to make you cry," he said honestly. "My mouth got away from me when the Oliver subject came up. I apologize. You have to know that you're not the only one going through grief right now." Diggle seemed to pause and consider something before continuing, "even if my grief may be a little different than yours."

Felicity sniffed then pulled away from John's arms to look up at him. "What do you mean by that?"

Diggle's face contorted from indecision to determination. "I mean that I may have lost a best friend, but you have lost a best friend and someone you loved deeply. I can't imagine losing Lyla or even Sara for that matter. So I can't imagine what you feel like right now."

Felicity's eyes flushed a new string of tears and Diggle pulled her into his embrace again. "I'm sorry, Felicity. I didn't mean to make you upset."

Felicity mumbled incoherently back to him, but she just kept holding onto Diggle's strong embrace. She needed this. She needed someone to share her grief with.

Time passed, and Felicity slowly became coherent about what was happening around her. He sobs stifled and she pulled back from John, wiping her eyes and taking deep breaths.

She let out a laugh that didn't mix well with her tears, and met the worried eyes of John Diggle. "I'm sorry I slobbered all over your shirt. I bet you already get enough of that from Sara." John cracked a smile as Felicity wiped away the remaining traces of her tears.

"I don't mind." He responded. "If anything, I'm used to it."

Felicity used this as a jumping point. "Speaking of, where is the little nugget?"

"She should be back soon. Lyla took Sara out to give us some space to talk." He responded, leading Felicity to a leather chair near her.

"Ah, so you baited me with a baby to get me to open up about my feelings." She lightly teased.

"I haven't heard much talk about feelings from your side yet. But essentially, yes. That was the plan."

Felicity blanched, but tried to quickly recover. "You see those wet spots on your shirt from my tears? Those are my feelings." Her lame attempt at making a joke went awfully. Diggle tried to smile on her behalf, but he wasn't fooled. She could tell. He knew her that well.

Diggle went to sit on the couch, only an arm's reach away from Felicity's chair. "So, my thinking is that you, Sara, Lyla, your mother, and I all get together tomorrow night and have a nice dinner here."

Felicity gulped. She just sobbed on Diggle's chest and that's when they were alone. How the hell would she fare around a whole group of people? "I don't think that would be the best idea, John."

He ignored the panic on her face. "Well, Lyla already bought all the food and called your mother to let her know the plan change. We're going to host your mother here, so you don't have to deal with a house guest right now. We already have it all planned out, Felicity. It will go smoothly. You don't need to worry about a thing."

Felicity took a deep calming breath before nodding her consent. If Diggle went through this much trouble to help her, she was going to suck it up and be grateful for this friendship. "Okay."

Diggle lit up. "Okay?"

Felicity just nodded again. "But if Sara doesn't come back soon, I'm revolting."

Diggle chuckled. "Alright, alright. Let's not get hasty. I'll shoot Lyla a text." He produced his phone from his jeans pocked, and seemed to type a quick text, before stowing his phone away again.

Felicity took the time to really take inventory of Diggle's home. She'd been in it many times, but and she looked but she never really _saw._ She started to notice the little things that really made their apartment a home. Like how Diggle and Lyla's medals from the army were placed on an open spot of their giant bookcase. Or how there were pictures of baby Sara with various loved ones featured on different pieces of furniture. Felicity saw them on side tables, on the bookcase, and atop the television. Felicity spotted one next to their stereo that seemed to be of Oliver holding Sara at the hospital. Felicity didn't remember that one being taken, and you couldn't see his face, but Felicity _knew_ it was him. She drank up the picture, a mere steps away, from her chair. She didn't move until she heard a key enter and turn the lock of Dig's door.

Felicity's eyes snapped to the entering forms of Lyla holding Sara in her arms. Lyla called out a greeting once she saw Felicity, and John got up to meet his small family. Felicity waved, and stood up. Making her way to little Sara, who was reaching out for her, Felicity took Sara out of Lyla's arms. She looked up at an amused Diggle, and said "you promised I'd get auntie Felicity time, and auntie Felicity time is what this little nugget is going to get."

When Felicity woke up the next morning, she was another year older. She rolled over to reach her phone to see if she had gotten anything from John or her Mother. Her mother had wished her a happy birthday and had remarked on her excitement of seeing her later that day. John had told her to be at his house by six for dinner.

There were plenty more messages on her phone from college friends wanting to congratulate her on her birthday or Facebook alerts of people writing the unoriginal 'happy birthday' on her timeline. Felicity didn't really feel like looking at them though. The one person she wanted to wish her a happy birthday was somewhere in a ravine. She took a deep breath and sat up in her bed. Her clock on her dresser told her it was nearly noon. She wasn't surprised. It was a mix of continuously not having to wake up early and consistently avoiding sleep that had ruined her sleep cycle.

The dreams varied from watching Oliver die at the hands of Ra's al Ghul to Oliver dying at the hands of Slade Wilson. The subject matter never changed, but the circumstances always did. Too many times she had woken up frozen in terror with tears running down her cheeks. It was hard to fall back asleep. She couldn't merely tell herself that it wasn't real, because it was. It didn't matter the circumstances or who did the killing. Oliver was dead.

She was half convinced to fall back into bed, and not escape her room for a couple more days, but she had promised John she would at least pretend to be okay today. Felicity took a couple of deep breaths, then started to move around her room almost like normal. She set an outfit out on her bed, picked a pair of matching heels, and threw a clean towel over her shoulder.

She made her way to the bathroom. She would try to be normal today for Dig, but tomorrow she would go back to slumming in her pajamas.

She was in front of Diggle's door at 5:58. Like the day before, she hesitated before knocking, knowing that she was going to have to put on a façade for everyone in the room. She took the last couple moments to herself, rationalizing with her mind that it was just one night, and that she was strong enough for this. After she hyped herself up, she knocked on the door, letting is resonate through the empty hall.

Almost immediately, the door swung open and she was in the arms of her mother. Felicity didn't know what she expected, but her mother was wearing a slightly more appropriate dress than the ones she usually wore. Her mother cooed at her, and wished her a happy birthday before pulling back, and leading her into the apartment.

Felicity's mom was not yet done. As Felicity was greeted with a hug from Lyla and Diggle, her mom was talking over everyone. "Oh my baby is twenty-six today! Twenty-six years ago, I was made a mother! It was the worst pain of my life, but my little Felicity was worth every second of labor. Twenty-six! Oh gosh, I'm not _that_ old am I?"

Felicity sighed. Some things will never change. She was always embarrassed by her over-sharing mother. But Diggle and Lyla were smiling broadly at her. Felicity shot Diggle a look of surprise to which Diggle replied with a "We've had a lot of fun with your mother today. She's a really great person. Have some amusing stories."

"Yeah, she's a real charmer," Felicity replied. Her mother didn't notice the exchange. Instead, she turned to Felicity.

"Honey, where is that lovely billionaire friend of yours?" she inquired, then her face puzzled, "what was his name? Oh yes! Oliver Queen!" Her mother didn't notice the way Felicity's face contorted in pain. "Where's Oliver?" She turned to Felicity in time to see the backlash of Felicity's expression. "Did you two have a falling out?" Felicity just shook her head at her mother. She was about to open her mouth and come up with some half-assed excuse when Diggle interrupted her.

"He is out of town on business. He's checking on some back accounts he has in Russia. It couldn't wait, unfortunately. He sends his love."

Felicity watched as her mother's face lit up. "Oh darn! I was so excited to get to know him better! Ah well, those billionaires are billionaires for a reason, and it's not because they sit around and do nothing."

Diggle's face changed from defense to amusement. Diggle knew how little Oliver did to keep his family's business going. Oliver had many talents, but running a business was not one of them.

Felicity shifted her feet slowly. She didn't want to talk about Oliver anymore. If they did, she wouldn't be able to make it through the night. She gained eye contact with Diggle to let him know that this was a dark and dangerous topic they were on. Diggle understood immediately, and decided to engage her mother in a conversation about life in Vegas.

When Lyla announced that food was ready, Felicity was thankful. Not only was she hungry, but the quicker they ate, the quicker she could leave. It was tough trying to keep a smile on your face while your heart was shattered into pieces.

Thankfully, dinner ran smoothly without any more questions or comments about Oliver. Lyla had made Felicity a cake, and her mom had brought some mint chip ice cream to go with it. It wasn't until her mom prompted her to make a wish and blow out the candles did she pause.

She knew what she would wish for. It was the only thing she wanted so badly it hurt. Birthday candles were never very reliable for wishes, but maybe that's why when she closed her eyes and blew out all twenty-six of her candles she had a singular thought. _I wish Oliver was alive._

Felicity had escaped. Diggle and her mother had made Felicity open presents right after eating cake. Diggle had gotten her a new hard drive, as she had been complaining about not having enough space on her last one. Lyla had bought her a new set of aqua earrings, and her mother had gotten her a couple dresses that looked like something she would only be able to wear to a club.

But as much as she loved her mother and Diggle, she had to get away. All the fake happiness that radiated from Dig and Lyla were annoying the shit out of her. She knew that they couldn't help it, and that they were all trying, but Felicity could only stand so much of it. That's why when she found the opportunity to leave, she took it. She claimed she was exhausted, hugged everyone, and then Diggle escorted her to her car. He gave her another hug, promised to call tomorrow, and then shut the car door on her.

Felicity's ride home was peaceful. The tension rolled off her body as she settled into being alone for the first time all night. Being around people was hard. Especially recently. They all constantly checked on her to see if she was holding it all together. She didn't want to hold it together. Losing her friend Sara Lance was one thing. She grieved for her lost friend and ally, but then she was eventually able to move on.

Losing Oliver was completely different. She had too many unanswered questions for him. Too many things were left unsaid. She would never know what was between them. She would never get to tell him how she loves him, and how she loved him for most of their relationship. He said he loved her. But she would never know if he fell for her more recently or if it was earlier in their relationship. And did he mean it back when they were trying to fool Slade?

The questions swirled around her like a cyclone. She was stuck in the middle, and there was no way out without being carried away. Felicity's mind was going a hundred miles an hour when she stopped all her thinking. This was something she was practicing. As soon as her mind got away from her, and her chest seized in anxiety, she would empty her mind. She didn't need a full panic attack right now. She's pretty sure she would end up in a car wreck if that happened.

Felicity's mind stayed blank the whole rest of the way home. She pulled into her apartment complex, and made her way up the stairs to her apartment door. When she got to the top of the stairs, she paused. A big box was right in front of her door. It was a very wide brown box, but it wasn't very tall. Felicity's mind raced, trying to remember if she has ordered anything on Amazon in that last couple of weeks. But nothing came to mind.

She cautiously edged toward the box. The address label had her name and address written in a scrawny handwriting, but there was no return address label. Felicity looked for a post office stamp, but saw none on the box. Somebody left this at her house and it wasn't the mail man.

Felicity's mind started to twist and wind into terrifying scenarios that involved the League of Assassins and bombs. At that thought, Felicity lowered her ear to the box, listening for the telltale ticking sound that a bomb usually emitted. Nothing. No sound at all.

Maybe it was just a present from an old friend who had just dropped it off. She hadn't heard from Roy all day, maybe it was him. Or maybe it was her boss, Ray. But Ray seemed less likely. She hadn't talked to him since she yelled at him and told him he was suicidal.

After her mind calmed down, she walked around the box to open her door. And once it was open, she dragged the box into the entryway of her apartment. She stared at it a few more seconds while she kicked off her heels and threw her purse on the couch. Felicity walked into the kitchen to grab a pair of scissors before she turned her attention back to the box. If this was Roy's way of apologizing to her, she was going to feel so guilty. Really, he did nothing to upset her, she was just upset in general when she ended up yelling at him and Dig in the Foundry.

She opened the scissors and placed them on the overlay of flaps, pulling the scissors towards her. Once the tape was cut, she pried the flaps the rest of the way up and peeked in.

The box was lined with flowers of all kinds. They varied in colors and sizes. They were not in any sort of vase, but like they had been cut and placed in the box like someone were lining the ground with them. She was caught off guard for a second, as the smell of the flowers wafted in her face. Her attention was caught again when she saw two cards placed atop the flowers.

Curious as to who had sent this gorgeous box of flowers, she reached for the first card. She opened the envelope. Inside, there was a single white piece of paper. The paper looked pristine, just like the envelope and flowers did. Two words occupied this piece of parchment:

**Happy Birthday!**

Well, that narrowed it down. At least she now knew they weren't from Ray, he wouldn't have gone such a simple route. And she was pretty sure he didn't know when her birthday was. Unless he went out of his way to dig up her job application from so many years ago to Queen Consolidated. A handwritten note didn't scream "Ray" to her. He would have sent her a new tablet he designed to relay such a simple message. No, there was no way this was Ray.

Felicity was surprised at the amount of relief she felt when she realized they weren't from Ray. She didn't want to talk to him, and she wanted him to stop buying her things to prove how rich he was.

She took a deep calming breath as she picked up the second card, mostly identical to the first. There was a single white paper in this one too, but the words on the paper didn't say what she thought it would. There were no name on the paper and nor was there any kind of threatening message on it. She felt her insides stiffen as she read the words:

**Do you understand?**

As she read the note over and over again, her mind kept jumping to the night her and Oliver had tricked Slade Wilson. Oliver had told her he loved her, handed her a syringe filled with the Mirakuru antidote, and asked if she understood what he was saying. The moment was burned into her brain ever since. She was never able to get his expression when he said he loved her out of her mind. It was one of the most detailed memories she had of him.

But could this be Oliver? Could she dare to hope? Or was this some sick trick? But no one else knew about that moment in the Queen mansion. Save for a couple of people. Slade Wilson did, obviously, but he was currently locked in a prison on Lian Yu. Dig and Roy knew a very slim version of what happened, but they didn't know about this. Only Oliver could know.

Felicity's heart raced as she realized the truth. Oliver was the only one who would do something like this. Maybe this was his way of letting her know that he was alive. Why he didn't just call her cell, she didn't know.

She felt her heart get stuck in her throat as she thought that this beautiful birthday present could be from Oliver. It fit him. He was always so simple with his gifts. When Dig had shown her the necklace Oliver had made for little Sara, Felicity's mouth dropped open at how gorgeous and thoughtful it was. Admittedly, later in the comfort of her own home, she was a bit jealous that Oliver made Sara a necklace but didn't make her one. Felicity couldn't even feel a little bit jealous now. This was Oliver's gift to her. Felicity shook her head suddenly. She wasn't completely sure it was Oliver. She hoped it was. _God_ she hoped it was from him.

But then a dark cloud formed in her mind. If it was Oliver, why did he send her this clue? Why not just show up at her door?

Felicity's mind started calculating the predicament that Oliver could be in right now. What if he had to hide? What if he couldn't let everyone know he was alive? Oliver could have tricked the League and faked his death. Then that could be the reason he wasn't standing in front of her right now, holding onto her as she sobbed in relief. He wouldn't be able to just come back unscathed. The League thought he was dead, so he had to pretend he was. If they knew he was alive, Starling City would be overrun with the League of Assassins taking their revenge on The Canary's death.

Once Felicity thought about it, it was the only logical explanation. Oliver had to _be_ dead to The League. But he loved her. He told her so. As irritating as it was that Oliver chose _that_ moment to tell her his feelings, she understood why he did. He didn't know if he would come back alive. It might've been his once chance to tell her.

And here he was, telling her he was okay like he knew she felt the same way. It's like Oliver knew Felicity would barely be able to get out of bed in the morning knowing he was dead. This was him showing how much he cared for her. He didn't have to tip her off, and it was probably more dangerous for him now that he did, but he still did it. For her.

Felicity looked back into the box. Was there another note she missed? Could there be another clue? Maybe of where he was? What happened? Felicity's hand rummaged in the box, looking for something, _anything_ that could help. She found nothing.

Even though she was determined that it was Oliver, she couldn't know one hundred percent it was him. But how could she prove it? If she told Dig, he might just write it off as a joke or her overactive imagination at work. She looked back at the two envelopes. They were both licked closed. She could run a DNA analysis on the envelope, and maybe be able to prove it was Oliver who sent the notes.

Felicity placed the cards back in the box, put her heels back on, and grabbed her purse from the couch. She then reached down and picked up the box. She had to get to the Foundry. She needed to know and she needed to know now.

Felicity set foot in the Foundry, and found it exactly how she left it. She guessed Roy and Diggle had barely been here since she walked out on them. _Oh shit, Diggle!_ She forgot to tell him what she was doing. Either she was going to find out that it was Oliver, and she had to let him know, or it wasn't Oliver and she needed someone to help her pick up the pieces of her shattered hope.

Felicity didn't know if Oliver wanted her to tell Diggle or keep it to herself. But he didn't specify anything, so she was going to do what she wanted with the information he gave her. And besides, if this was Oliver, Diggle would know something was up when Felicity suddenly became a much happier camper.

She placed the box by her computers, and then set her purse down, looking for her phone. She sent a quick text to Diggle telling him where she was and that she may have found something. She didn't specify beyond that. She didn't want him to try and talk her out of it. He wouldn't want her to get her hopes up to only have them crushed.

Felicity paused as the icy fear coursed through her. What if she was wrong? What if this wasn't Oliver? What if Oliver really was dead?

_No._ Felicity thought. There was really no use to thinking like that. She'd deal with her broken heart and false hopes after she ran the DNA scan.

Felicity had almost put her phone back when a buzz alerted her to Dig's reply:

**On my way.**

She stared at the box for a second, then went to the supply cabinet to grab her DNA kit. Making her way back, she set out her supplies and pulled up the Starling City Police Department's database on her computer system. Then she set herself to her work.

Once the samplings were done, all Felicity had left to do was wait. She didn't know how long it would take for any particular sample to find a match, but it seemed like it had already been years since she pressed the search button. Really though, it had only been fifteen minutes at most. Felicity's hope was skyrocketing as she repeated the words "please Oliver, please" under her breath like a mantra.

Then two sounds came at once. The first was the door of the Foundry opening and John Diggle's feet echoing down the steps, cautiously asking her what was up. The second was the sound of her computer signifying the completion of her search. She gulped before looking at her screen. She stared at it for a second before she pushed off of her desk and rolled her chair around, facing Diggle's confused figure.

Felicity took a deep shaky breath. "He's alive, John. He's alive."

John watched as Felicity's expression morphed into a joyous relief as she let the anxious feelings inside of her seep out of her body. John looked past Felicity's beaming face, to see an old mug shot of Oliver's on her computer screen. Next to the image of Oliver was the word MATCHED in giant red letters. Diggle watched it as the words blinked on the screen. Diggle looked down to see an open box at Felicity's feet and he started to put two and two together. He sent her something. Diggle didn't know what it was, but somehow Oliver had gotten in contact with Felicity.

And it was about time too. When Oliver got home, Diggle would have a little conversation with Oliver. And Diggle was _not_ going to let Oliver brush him off like in the past. If Oliver knew how Felicity had been when she thought Oliver was dead, maybe it would force Oliver to get his head out of his ass and actually act on his feelings.

Diggle could hardly believe it. Oliver was alive. But as Diggle watched Felicity's eyes resurrect with newfound hope and life, he had to believe it.

So Diggle said, "See? I told you he wanted to make your birthday special."


End file.
